


Unexpected

by S_Horne



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, College Student Stiles, Derek Needs To Use His Words, Dirty Talk, Getting Together, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mpreg, Unexpected Mpreg, Virgin Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-03 20:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Horne/pseuds/S_Horne
Summary: “Stiles,” Derek growled again and his eyes flashed dangerously. “Go home.”“Fucking make me.”Derek squared up to Stiles and walked him backwards until Stiles crashed against the wall. His breath came a little quicker as he locked eyes with Derek, heart hammering as he felt Derek’s arms barricade him against the wall. There was a long moment, both of their chests heaving as they stared at each other until Derek’s eyes flickered down to Stiles’ lips. Stiles smirked when he realised what that meant and his eyes lit up.“Oh,” he said slowly, pieces falling into place and his smirk widening. “You don’t want me to go home, do you?”Derek opened his mouth to reply, but Stiles spoke again. “You want me to stay. You want me.”/Derek's dirty talk really gets Stiles going... until it turns out to be a little more than hypothetical





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cheermione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheermione/gifts).



> This fic is for Cheermione. Months and months ago, we hashed out an idea like this and I finally got around to writing it. I'm so sorry that it's late by so many many months (and then I even managed to miss your birthday). I am also sorry that I'm not the best writer, but I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless and think that I did your idea justice. I love you. (And not just because you send me pictures of hot men.)
> 
> Thank you also to the lovely [superwhumper](http://superwhumper06.tumblr.com/) who gave me such lovely comments whilst beta-ing!

The door slammed behind Stiles as he stormed into Derek’s loft, anger radiating from every pore of his body.

“Hey!” he yelled. “What the hell?”

Stalking further into the apartment, Stiles shouted out again as he looked for the owner, not getting a reply. “I know you’re here; don’t you try and hide from me!”

Stiles finally found Derek in his study, the man standing with his back to Stiles as he poured himself a drink of a strong-smelling liquor. “Are you purposely ignoring me?” he asked, to which he still got no reply. Derek took a long sip of his whiskey before he planted his hands on the desk, leaning heavily on it as his head fell forward.

“God, you’re infuriating!” Stiles all but screamed, throwing his hands up to the sky and his head back. “You’re the fucking worst, you Sourwolf! You exist to bring other people pain, don’t you? It’s like your job title – ‘piss Stiles off’.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Derek finally asked, the words snarled and directed at the desk in front of him instead of Stiles. Derek didn’t turn around as he shifted his weight to one hand and reached out with the other to take another mouthful of his whiskey.

“Oh,” Stiles crowed sarcastically, hip jutting out as he clicked his tongue. “He speaks!”

Derek sighed deeply, but didn’t say anything more, head shaking as he downed his tumbler.

“Are you ever going to look at me?” Stiles asked, his patience finally wearing thin. “I’d rather not have this conversation with your back.”

Derek huffed and slammed his glass down onto the table, whirling around to glare at Stiles viciously. “What are you even doing here?”

Stiles didn’t flinch. It said something about him and the amount of time that he had spent with Derek that such a venomous glare did nothing to him except make him want to roll his eyes. “I’m here to clean up the mess you apparently left behind,” he said and folded his arms across his chest, his eyebrows lifted high. “I came all the way here to help your furry little ass. And you’re welcome by the way,” he added with a level of snark even  _ he  _ was proud of.

“I didn’t need you,” Derek muttered and turned back around to grab his bottle of liquor.

“Yeah, it sure looked like it,” Stiles snapped back.

Stiles had been at college, looking forward to his weekend off to catch up with some of his coursework and reading, when he had gotten a panicked phone call in the early hours of the morning. Scott had left a garbled message to say that a pack of harpies had approached the Hale Pack’s territory and that they needed all the help they could get. It hadn’t taken long for Stiles to get a flight out, thankful for his free weekend to avoid awkward questions and having to cash in a favour from his boss, and he was back in Beacon Hills before the problem had gotten too out of hand.

Well. Sort of.

It had been lucky that Stiles had arrived when he did because the pack had been outnumbered with a couple of them still away at college and the harpies weren’t exactly weak. The Hale Pack had been holding their own, clearly having practiced their teamwork and fighting in those rare moments where they weren’t being attacked by the supernatural, but harpies could be real bitches. They had sharp talons and the ability to fucking  _ fly  _ which, as awesome as werewolves were, that was something they were lacking.

Stiles had relished in the chance to test out a spell he’d been given by a witch at college and  _ damn,  _ had it worked. It had been awesome, the harpies rearing back in shock long enough for the wolves to jump in, but the look on Derek’s face when it was clear was something that Stiles had felt down to his toes. And now here they were.

“Whatever.” Derek rolled his eyes aggressively and pushed past Stiles as he headed into the kitchen, sighing when he heard Stiles follow him. “Why are you still here?”

“We just went over it; I had to–”

“No,” Derek cut in harshly to clarify, frustration bleeding into his tone. “Not here in Beacon Hills, here in my apartment.”

“You’ve missed me, dude,” Stiles said with a wink. Although he was used to Derek’s moods by now, he tried to brush off the clench in his heart at Derek’s coldness with a lightness he certainly didn’t feel. “Don’t even try and deny it.”

“Why the fuck are you even here?”

“Didn’t we just go through this?”

Derek’s snarl was one unlike Stiles had heard from him before and it made Stiles rear back a little. “Go home, Stiles. Get out of here. Get away from me.”

“No.” Stiles’ refusal was simple, but he planted his feet firmly on the floor and set his face.

“Stiles,” Derek growled again and his eyes flashed dangerously. “Go home.”

“Fucking make me.”

Derek squared up to Stiles and walked him backwards until Stiles crashed against the wall. His breath came a little quicker as he locked eyes with Derek, heart hammering as he felt Derek’s arms barricade him against the wall. There was a long moment, both of their chests heaving as they stared at each other until Derek’s eyes flickered down to Stiles’ lips. Stiles smirked when he realised what that meant and his eyes lit up.

“Oh,” he said slowly, pieces falling into place and his smirk widening. “You  _ don’t  _ want me to go home, do you?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply, but Stiles spoke again. “You want me to stay. You want  _ me. _ ”

Derek, again, said nothing. Stiles waited with baited breath until Derek shook his head, releasing Stiles’ arms suddenly as if he’d been burnt and taking a big step backwards.

“You want me, Derek.” Stiles wasn’t prepared to give up, not now that he had finally seen the truth. How long it had been going on, Stiles didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to let it go. Not when Stiles had wanted it, wanted  _ Derek,  _ for so long. “Admit it.”

Derek turned away harshly, but stopped in his tracks when Stiles approached, sliding his hands over Derek’s shoulders, over and down his chest. He leant forward and whispered his next words softly, tongue flicking out to lick the shell of Derek’s ear. “I want you, Derek Hale. Tell me you want me too.”

Derek’s control snapped, just like Stiles had been counting on. Within seconds, Derek had spun them around and slammed Stiles back into the wall. He grabbed Stiles’ hands and lifted them above his head, pinning Stiles’ wrists to the wall with one hand as he breathed in deeply, his eyes flashing red. Stiles felt his emotions heighten, heart pounding and blood pumping. He could only imagine what his scent smelt like to Derek; a flare, a pang of arousal, excitement, want, spicy and heavy. His eyes were blown wide and his palms began to sweat a little with anticipation as Derek leant in, closer and closer until their lips were merely a hairsbreadth apart.  

It wasn’t until Derek pushed him down onto the bed and Stiles bounced a little on the mattress that he realised they had moved. They had been in the hallway, Stiles pressed between the solid wall and the only-slightly-less-solid Derek. Their lips had never stopped moving against each other’s, tongues dancing as their hands pulled the other ever closer. It had been everything Stiles had wanted and more and he’d been so absorbed in Derek that he hadn’t noticed the man herding him softly towards the bedroom.

Laughing a little, Stiles reached up and grabbed fistfuls of Derek’s shirt, pulling him down on top of him. Derek went happily with a huffed laugh that was quickly swallowed by Stiles’ mouth. They lost their shirts quickly, not needing to break apart to rip them off, just unbuttoning them quickly and throwing them somewhere in the dark corners of the room.

Stiles licked his lips lewdly and laughed again when Derek blushed fiercely, his cheeks staining a bright red that spread up to his ears. Lifting his head up off the pillow slightly, Stiles reconnected their lips and let his hands wander over Derek’s back, dipping into the curves of his well-defined muscles and groaning into Derek’s mouth.

“Derek,” he moaned out, arching his back when Derek ducked his head to suck a deep bruise into Stiles’ neck. “More, Derek, please. Pants,” he cut himself off as he threw his head back and groaned deeply, “pants off. Now.”

Derek huffed a laugh against the column of Stiles’ throat, the hot breath tickling the sensitive skin there making Stiles shiver.

“You’re so impatient,” Derek whispered as Stiles’ hands flew to Derek’s belt and tugged, not really making any effect.

“That’s me,” Stiles agreed, hands still working to no avail as he rutted against Derek’s thigh. “So impatient. Want to help me out?”

Derek slotted their lips together for one last deep and dirty kiss full of teeth and tongue before he pulled himself away, with a smile at Stiles’ whine, to undo his belt and push down his jeans.

Stiles stared open-mouthed before he scrambled to do the same, feet catching in the pocket of his jeans – don’t even ask how – and very nearly causing him to topple off the edge of the bed. When he finally straightened himself out, his face was flushed and Derek had his judgmental eyebrows pulled down low. His boxers were definitely still tented though, so Stiles called that a win.

“Come here,” Stiles said when he was naked and lying back down on the bed. He reached his hands out for Derek, fingers grabbing at the air and a pout beginning to tug at his lips. “Come on, Derek. Don’t leave me waiting.”

It wasn’t until one of Stiles’ hands dropped away and started to dance up and down his own chest that Derek moved, surging forward back onto the bed and reaching down to bat Stiles’ hand away from himself. Before Stiles could complain, Derek’s hand replaced his, trailing lightly over the patterns of moles dotting his pale skin. 

Stiles groaned again and cupped the back of Derek’s head, fingers twirling into the dark hair and tugging just enough to make Derek’s eyes flash. 

In retaliation, Derek moved his hand lower until it ran up Stiles’ leg, cupping his thigh and lifting, throwing it around Derek’s waist. Before Stiles could get used to the new position, Derek circled a finger around Stiles’ hole and Stiles gasped.

“Do you want this?” Derek asked, voice low and husky in Stiles’ ear. 

“Yes, Derek, please.” Stiles would have been more embarrassed at how breathy his voice sounded if it hadn’t made Derek suddenly rut up against him. As nice as that was, Stiles was reminded that Derek still had an item of clothing on. “Off, off,” was as far as he could get. Derek froze as those words left his mouth but before he could pull away, Stiles snapped the waistband of his boxers. “These,” he clarified, “get them off.” 

Derek relaxed again and complied, lifting his body weight from atop of Stiles just enough to shove his boxers down to his knees and shimmy out of them. And damn,  _ that move was impressive, _ Stiles thought as his eyes zeroed in on Derek’s dick.

And wow. That was even more impressive. Stiles didn’t have a whole lot of experience, not in real life with other people, but he had watched enough porn to know what pretty penises looked like. If a penis could be pretty. 

But Derek’s certainly was.

Derek’s chuckle made Stiles’ eyes snap up to his face instead and he coloured a little at the smirk on Derek’s expression before he decided to roll with it. He let his hands dance down Derek’s body and tapped his fingers lightly up and down Derek’s shaft. It was his turn to laugh when Derek shuddered and his eyelids fluttered gorgeously.

“You like that?” Stiles asked and squirmed when Derek bit down on his neck.

Derek huffed his laugh into Stiles’ soft skin and asked his own question instead of answering Stiles’. “Do you like that?”

“Yes.” Maybe Stiles wasn’t supposed to admit that, not as breathless and as whiny as he was, but he did. He had to. “God, yes. Derek.”

Derek nipped again, soothing the bite with a quick kiss before he leant over Stiles’ body to reach the bedside table. Pulling open the drawer there, he took out a half-empty bottle of lube. Damn, if that wasn’t hot as hell, Stiles thought as images of Derek using it started to roll through Stiles’ mind. He whimpered loudly, bucking up into Derek, desperate for some friction.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” Derek crooned, leaning down to suck Stiles’ earlobe into his mouth as his voice dropped low. “We have all night.”

Derek’s tone did absolutely nothing to help Stiles’ desperate state and he rocked into Derek more, cursing loudly when his dick pressed up against Derek’s.

“Come on,” he said, words coming out almost a beg. “Derek, come on. I want it, I want it now. God, please.”

Stiles’ words turned into a whine when Derek slicked up a finger quickly with the lube and dipped it in between Stiles’ cheeks. The feeling of the sudden cold made him yell out and his hands clutched at Derek’s forearms as Derek gently worked his finger past the ring of muscle of Stiles’ hole, both of them groaning at the tightness. It didn’t take long before Stiles was begging for a second finger, then a third. Derek’s fingers were much bigger than Stiles’ own, but he was more than comfortable taking them, wanted it more and more with every passing moment.

Stiles was rocking himself back onto Derek’s fingers before too long, kissing Derek when he couldn’t take the look on Derek’s face. Derek just looked so turned on, so  _ proud  _ even, that it was him who was making those noises leave Stiles’ mouth. Maybe Stiles should be embarrassed that he was acting so desperate, so whiny and so needy. But with Derek on top of him looking like something straight out of a porn film, whispering filthy comments in his ear as his forehead began to sweat, he couldn’t care less.

God, he was beautiful and Stiles couldn’t hold back.

He lost track of time as he reached up and pulled Derek down on top of him, jutting out his elbow suddenly to knock Derek’s arm which was holding him up. Derek collapsed on top of Stiles in shock and Stiles used the chance to flip them over, bending down to kiss Derek filthily, his hands braced on Derek’s chest as he bounced himself down onto Derek’s hand.

Derek’s eyes flashed a brilliant red, but all he did was crook his fingers at an angle to make Stiles see stars, eyes glazing over as he shouted loudly, words garbled and nonsense.

The distraction was just enough for Derek to throw Stiles backwards from on top of him. Stiles went easily, trusting Derek to catch him before he hit the mattress and happily embracing Derek when he ended up back on top. Their breathless laughter was lost into an open-mouthed kiss, tongues battling for a taste of the other.

“Are you ready for me?” Derek asked eventually, pulling back just enough to breathe the words against Stiles’ lips.

“Yes,” Stiles said, clutching at Derek’s back, nails leaving marks that he wished could stay for longer.

“Good,” Derek replied, tongue tracing over Stiles’ bottom lip. “That’s what I was hoping you were going to say.” He pulled his fingers out quickly and Stiles’ breath left him in a sharp gasp, cool air tickling his body when Derek leant back. Before Stiles could think of enough words to form a sentence, Derek had shuffled down his body and was nosing dangerously close to Stiles’ dick.

He had been hard for so long and his dick had received so little attention that he was terrified of suddenly coming as soon as Derek touched him. He wasn’t sure that the noises he was making were actively portraying that fear, but it was the best that he could do at that point in time. Derek’s lips were hot as they traced from mole to mole at the bottom of his stomach and Stiles tried to kick his brain back online.

“Condom?”

“Don’t need one,” Derek said in reply, mouthing at the inside of Stiles’ thighs. “I’m clean and I know you are too.”

“Rude,” Stiles said with a little pout, “I could have got some at college.”

There was a sound very akin to a growl, but when Stiles lifted his head from his pillow, Derek was smirking up at him eyes blown wide and half lidded. “But you didn’t, did you?”

Stiles sighed and shook his head, dropping back down and tangling his fingers in the covers. “No,” he admitted, “I didn’t. The FBI is very demanding, you know.” He was about to say more when Derek blew lightly on the head of his dick and he nearly shot off the bed.

Derek laughed as he slithered up Stiles’ body and took his lips in a deep kiss. “Don’t worry, baby,” he practically purred when they broke apart, his eyes dancing sinfully, “I’ll make it good for you.”

Derek’s hands wandered up Stiles’ body, little ghosting touches that burned the younger man’s skin. Stiles reached out and grabbed Derek’s hand as Derek entered him, gritting his teeth at the slight burn. Derek shushed him gently, fingers flicking over Stiles’ nipples to distract him.

And boy, did it work. It wasn’t long before Stiles was rocking back down onto Derek’s cock, his hole fluttering and making Derek groan.

“Oh, you like that, baby?”

Stiles groaned in response to Derek’s hushed words, arching up into Derek’s touch when he bent down and flicked his tongue over Stiles’ nipples, biting and sucking at them until they were red and swollen.

“Derek,” Stiles panted, “do it again. There, oh  _ fuck. _ ” 

Stiles’ hand flew out to his side and fisted in the sheets, knuckles turning white as he gripped them tightly. After a moment, Stiles felt Derek’s fingers dancing up his arm and unfurled his own from the mattress, reaching out blindly for Derek’s so that he was holding him with both hands. Their fingers were intertwined, interlocked tightly as Derek continued to rock forward, pushing Stiles’ further into the mattress with every thrust.

Stiles’ legs were splayed wide, his thighs level with his hips. He was suddenly glad for the FBI’s vigorous training regime which made the strain a little easier, though he knew he would be feeling this whole thing in the morning. He couldn’t wait.

As Stiles closed his eyes, his grip going slack as the pleasure washed over him, Derek tightened a fist in Stiles’ hair and forced his head to one side, exposing his neck.

“I’m gonna knock you up,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ ear, his voice low and husky. “I’m going to knot you and fill you, plant my seed in you until you’re full.”

“Oh, God.”

Derek leant down and traced his nose down the column of Stiles’ throat, nuzzling there and breathing deeply. “I’m going to fill you, fill you with my child. You’re going to be so full that your body will have no choice but to take it.”

“What?” Stiles asked, his chest heaving as he Derek released his hands to lift him off the bed slightly. His hands scrambled for purchase against Derek’s back at the new position, eyes fluttering as he went oh so willingly.

“You’re mine, Stiles.”

Stiles opened his mouth to reply when Derek lifted his leg to find the spot inside of him that made him see stars and all that came out was a long groan and a desperate beg for more.

“I am going to put my child in you, watch you get round and full with my pups. I’m going to watch as your stomach swells, smell your scent as it sweetens and changes. I’ll do it again and again.”

Stiles was going to question what Derek was talking about, but his voice was only serving to turn Stiles on even more and he couldn’t find the words.

“Would you like that?”

Stiles groaned, almost deliriously. He was floating, mind leaving his body and travelling to a whole new plain as Derek drove into him over and over, his dick filling Stiles fuller than he had ever been before.

“Stiles,” Derek suddenly stopped moving and Stiles almost screamed in frustration. “Do you want that?”

“Yes, oh, God;  _ yes _ !” And it said something about how good Derek was in bed that Stiles was ready to agree to this weird little werewolf ritual. “Yes,” he begged again, the words flowing out of his mouth as Derek began to move once more. “Fill me, Derek. Fill me with your baby.”

It only took one last thrust from Derek in just the right place and Stiles was coming, long and hard. It should have been embarrassing, again, but it felt so good that he didn’t care. And Derek wanted him, that much was plain to see, so Stiles didn’t care that he had come so quickly, didn’t care about anything now. He almost sobbed with his release as his muscles tensed, his shoulders lifting from the bed as he held onto Derek and rode the wave of pleasure crashing over him, his dick spurting against his stomach in hot splashes. When Derek’s hand wormed its way between them and scooped up some of Stiles’ come, tongue dating out to taste it before Derek surged forward for an open-mouthed kiss, Stiles nearly came again, his dick giving a valiant effort as he gave up control and let Derek dominate him completely.

Stiles was ready to fall back onto the bed and sleep for a year when he felt something inside of him growing and stretching him out further and further.

“Ugh,” Stiles moaned loudly, his fingers dug into Derek’s shoulders as his mouth fell open. “Oh, God. What is that?”

Derek thrust again and Stiles whimpered at the push against his oversensitive prostate. “That’s my knot,” Derek said, movements not stopping even as Stiles whined pathetically. “Reckon you can take it?”

“Oh, God,” was all Stiles could manage as a response.

“Can. You. Take. It?” Derek asked, punctuating each word with a short but deep thrust.

“Yes!” Stiles cried, throwing his head back against the pillows as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was stretched so impossibly full that he didn’t think he could cope. But then again, he also didn’t know if he could ever go back to being empty after this. “Oh, God! Derek; yes, more! Derek – more!”

Derek chuckled, the noise weak as sweat began to drip from his forehead and his arms shook. Stiles’ second orgasm came out of nowhere and took him completely by shock, his head almost catching Derek’s chin as he shot forward, cock spurting completely untouched again. Derek stilled at the look on Stiles’ face, but Stiles weakly pulled at him.

“Keep going,” he begged, “move.” His voice was soft, weakened by lust and exhaustion but he needed to tell Derek.

“Yeah?”

“Do it,” Stiles said. He laid back against the pillows and stared up at Derek almost defiantly. “Fill me up with your pup.”

Derek came with a long and loud groan the second those words left Stiles’ mouth. He fell forward and buried his head into Stiles’ neck, panting harshly against the dark bruises he had put there earlier as pleasure crashed over him. Stiles cupped his neck and stroked a hand down his rigid back as he felt Derek’s come pumping into him, hot and thick and seemingly never stopping.

“Can you feel that?” Derek asked eventually, voice sounding as broken as Stiles felt. “Can you feel me filling you up?”

“Yes,” Stiles moaned breathlessly, eyes falling shut once more as he gave into the feeling of complete surrender. “Oh my God, yes. More, Derek. Give me everything.”

 

 

/

 

 

Stiles woke up alone. He should have known that he would.

The night after the best sex of his life – well, the only sex so far that had involved a partner, but Stiles didn’t see how it could get better than that – and he had been left in the night.  

But maybe Derek was just in the bathroom, or downstairs in the kitchen. This was Derek’s house, after all. What were the chances that he would leave his own house just to tell Stiles that he wasn’t interested in anything more than one night?

Stiles had known that Derek wasn’t ready to commit to a relationship. Of course he had.  _ Come on _ , he berated himself,  _ this was Derek _ . The literal definition of the lone wolf. Although he had wanted,  _ loved  _ Derek for years, he had squashed his feelings down. He knew Derek would never feel the same way, even as their relationship changed and grew over the years. It was stupid to fall into bed with the guy last night, such a stupid mistake. But it had just been so perfect. That first kiss had been all that Stiles had ever dreamt of and more. His touch, his scent, his  _ embrace _ would be seared into his mind for ever and it killed Stiles even now to realise that he would never get it again, and would have to remember it forever.

 

 

/

 

 

It was a few weeks before Stiles got sick.

It wasn’t a regular sickness, either; Stiles was pretty sure it was the flu. He felt like a child, curled up beneath his covers with his dad coming in every now and again to check on him. He was glad that he was on break from college and could chill out for a bit at home. 

“Feeling any better, kiddo?”

Stiles pulled the blanket down just enough to stick his face out and pouted up at John, the man standing in the doorway with a concerned look. “No. I am not.”

John smiled sadly and walked into the room, sitting down on the very edge of Stiles’ bed. “Which hurts more?”

Stiles sighed and pushed himself up a little more until he was resting back against his headboard. “I don’t know. My head is pounding, my throat feels like razors are lodged there from the vomiting, but my...”

John nodded and reached out to cup his son’s ankle through the comforter. “He still hasn’t called?”

“No.” Stiles dropped his gaze, picking at his nails. “I’ve left a couple of messages and sent a hundred texts, but I haven’t heard anything. I sent Scott round to see if he was even alive - he is, by the way. They shared a pizza and everything. So it’s just me, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” Stiles had told John everything, - well, not quite  _ everything _ \- when he had come home from college and John had noticed him moping around, checking his phone every couple of minutes and staring out the window every time a car went past. John hadn’t been angry, not judgmental in any way, just sympathetic and caring and Stiles was reminded again why he was the best dad in the world. “Reckon you can keep some soup down?” 

“Who knows?” Stiles replied. “I can try though. Chicken?”

“Is there any other kind?”

Stiles was so grateful for his dad and he knew he would be even more so in the months to come. He knew he didn’t have the flu, and he knew his dad knew it too. 

Stiles was sick every morning and he couldn’t eat burritos, the simple smell making him gag. Burritos were his favourite food and suddenly he was completely off them? That wasn’t right; that wasn’t okay in any way. He couldn’t stand without getting dizzy and he was getting a bulge at the base of his stomach. 

Now, Stiles wasn’t stupid. He knew what those sort of symptoms meant. And yes, he also knew that he was a man, but he ran with werewolves on the full moon and could perform magic spells every now and again. This wasn’t that far out of the impossible.

He’d wallowed enough and it was time to face the music. Although… he could wait just long enough for another bowl of chicken soup. Mm. 

/

It took another full day for Stiles to gather the courage to actually go to see Derek, but he did eventually, turning up on Derek’s doorstep. He eyed the doorbell as he chewed on his nails, debating whether to actually go in or not. 

He was so deep in thought that he startled wildly when the door opened and Derek stood there staring down at him, an eyebrow raised in question. 

“What.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek’s tone, but it felt a little more lackluster than usual. “I have a hypothetical question about how much of your dirty talk is based on the reality of the supernatural.”

“What?”

Stiles bit his lip at the confusion in Derek’s voice. At least  _ he  _ had had a couple of weeks to come to terms with the news. “Can I come in?”

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Derek stepped aside and beckoned Stiles in, his brow still furrowed. Following Stiles into the living room, Derek felt entirely confused. He hadn’t seen stiles since  _ the night  _ and he’d been doing a good job of avoiding him. This wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have, not a situation that he had anticipated. That night had been a mistake, as amazing and as wonderful as it had been, the feeling of Stiles in his bed and underneath him everything he had ever wanted. It couldn’t happen again and Derek had been doing okay. 

Well, he had been dealing with coming to terms with that. 

“So, that hypothetical question,” Stiles said and Derek snapped back into the present. 

“What did you do, Stiles?” Derek sighed resignedly and Stiles exploded. 

“What did I do? What the hell did  _ you _ do?”

Derek raised his eyebrows and folded his arms across his chest. “What are you talking about, Stiles? I haven’t even seen you in weeks.”

“Did you or did you not tell me you were going to knock me up?”

“I did…” Derek started before Stiles’ words sunk in and his arms fell from his chest, “wait, what?”

“You said that you could get me pregnant,” Stiles reiterated. 

“Yes,” Derek said in agreement. That much was true; he’d heard the stories when he was a little boy. It had been a long time since he had known of a pregnant man, though, but he knew it could happen.

“Werewolves can get men pregnant.”

“Yes,” Derek said again. “Well, certain men that have a sort of spark, but yes.”

“Yes? You know?” Stiles cried suddenly, his arms gesturing wildly as his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That’s it? ‘Yes’? That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, what did you think I was talking about?” Derek said, eyes flashing at the sudden spike of anger in Stiles’ scent. 

“That was real?”

“Yes.” Derek was getting tired of that word. “Obviously.”

“I thought it was just dirty talk,” Stiles said slowly, his voice quiet as his hand shot to his chest. “I didn’t know...”

“What? I thought you were werewolf researcher extraordinaire.” Those were Stiles’ words, not Derek’s, but he’d said it so many times that the rest of the pack had taken to calling him that. 

“It wasn’t–”

“You thought that was dirty talk?” Derek started as he pieces fell into place. “You thought that what I said was dirty talk, but now you know it was real. And you know it was real because…”

“Well, how was I supposed to know it was real? You never mentioned anything about liking me as a person, never mind choosing me to be the carrier of your child.”

“Stiles–”

“And then all of a sudden we’re in bed and you’re saying all these things,” Stiles continued oblivious to Derek’s attempts at talking to him. 

“Stiles, please–”

“And it was weird, don’t get me wrong–”

Something inside of Derek dropped at that and he stopped trying to interrupt. It was obvious what Stiles was trying to say. 

“It was a good weird, sure, but I thought it was dirty talk. I really wasn’t expecting...” 

“Expecting what?” 

Stiles sighed and dropped his head down onto his palm. “I’m pregnant, Derek.”

Derek’s wolf howled in joy and he jolted in surprise at the sudden urge to let it out. He had known what Stiles was saying, but to hear the words actually said out loud was something completely different. It was something that Derek could never have been prepared for, for  _ Stiles _ to tell him that he was carrying his child. 

An urge to throw his head back and howl ripped through him and he fought valiantly to hold it in. He hadn’t felt such a challenge to his control since he was a child. This was insane. Derek was ecstatic. Stiles was carrying his baby. Stiles was his. Stiles was… Stiles was not happy.

“Why are you not surprised?” Stiles asked, cutting into Derek’s thoughts. “Derek, this is so weird! I can’t be... Derek!”

His scent was sad, a horrible tang that Derek could almost taste in the air. Stiles should never smell or look sad; it wasn’t an expression that matched his face.

“I knew,” Derek said softly. God, he was just the worst. “I said it. I knew you could get pregnant.”

“What? Derek, these are things that you should tell other people! Oh, God,” Stiles moaned, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as he threw his head back. “My first time and I get pregnant. Only me; literally only I could do this.”

“I didn’t think it would take though,” Derek continued quietly, dropping his gaze down to his hands as he swallowed. “It can only happen with mates–”

“Mates?” Stiles’ voice reached a new octave and Derek winced. “We’re… of course we are.” Stiles dropped down onto the couch and threw his head down onto his knees. “Really; of course. Stupid fucking werewolves. I hate you all. I hate you so much.”

Derek didn’t say anything as Stiles moaned to himself, his mutterings mostly inaudible save for a few words. “I’m pregnant with… fucking werewolves… kill you… can you fucking believe.”

Derek watched, his hands curling into fists in an attempt to stop himself from reaching out to touch Stiles. It was another minute or two more before Stiles lifted his head and to stare straight at Derek.

“What do you want?” he asked. “You clearly don’t want me, so what do you want?”

Stiles’ words stopped Derek in his tracks and he met Stiles’ graze, incredulous. “What?”

“You left. You slipped out whilst I was asleep and left me in your bed.”

Derek’s mouth dropped open. “That’s not what–” he started before Stiles carried on over him. 

“I woke up and you weren’t there. It was your own apartment and you left me there on my own.”

Well.

In fairness that much was true. Derek had done that. But he hadn’t done it for the reasons that Stiles was thinking. Derek had woken up first, awake with the sun like usual. He had adored the sight of Stiles in his bed, the man sprawled across the massive California king with his scent seeping into the room, his and Derek’s mixed together the way they should be; the way that they should have always been and would always be, if Derek had anything to say about it.

It had taken a while, but Derek had eventually forced himself out of bed and into the kitchen, prepared to make breakfast for his mate. 

Not that Stiles was his mate, he had quickly told himself. Just a friend... well, maybe a little more. 

But Derek could do this, he could provide. He would show Stiles that he could do this, could be a good partner for the younger man. Derek hadn’t always been the best alpha. He  _ had  _ spent a few of his years living in an abandoned train carriage. But that was in the past. He was better now. A better alpha and a better man. When his pack had gone away to college, Derek had set about changing his ways. He had redone the Hale house, torn the remains to the ground and built a new house, smaller but still functional and enough for his pack. He had painted the walls, bought beds and couches for nearly every room, had the windows open nearly all day for fresh air and house plants. 

With a smile forming on his face, Derek had opened the fridge and seen… nothing. Dammit. He had meant to go shopping, but then, well. There were Harpies and battles and god knows what else. He could do this though. He could still be a good provider. He could, and would, prove himself to Stiles. He just needed to go to the store.

On his way out, Derek looked back over his shoulder. He didn’t want to leave, but Stiles was a heavy sleeper; he thought he had time.Clearly, he was wrong.

“You don’t like me,” Stiles said and brought Derek back to the present.

“Well, clearly I do,” Derek said before he could help himself, gesturing a hand at Stiles’ stomach. When Stiles rolled his eyes, Derek took a half step forward and reached out. “If you’ll just let me explain–”

Stiles scoffed a derisive laugh. “Explain what?” Stiles all but snarled. “Explain how you left me in bed alone after my first night with someone? Explain how you ignored me for weeks? Explain why you snuck out of your own house.”

“I went to get breakfast.”

Stiles actually looked taken aback by Derek’s loud outburst and Derek blushed before he continued, voice a little lower this time. “I went out to the store to buy you breakfast because I didn’t have anything. I didn’t have any food in the house and you deserved something better than tap water and salt.”

“So,” Stiles started slowly, his brow furrowed, “you do actually like me?”

Derek was quiet for a moment and Stiles rolled his eyes, standing up from the couch. Derek shot up and crossed the room before Stiles could take a step. “No, sorry. Sorry, please don’t go.” Derek took a deep breath and shut his eyes. “I do.”

He opened his eyes again and held Stiles’ gaze. “I do like you. I love you.”

There was a long pause as Stiles’ mouth hung open. “What? But I threw myself at you and I told you that I wanted you, that I thought you were beautiful. I’m pretty sure that I told you that I loved you and you said nothing.”

“I took you home.”

“Exactly!” Stiles cried. “You charmed me enough to get me home and into your bed and then you had enough and threw me out.”

“No, Stiles, it wasn’t like that–”

“Then what was it like? Because I threw myself at you in front of everyone and you–”

“I’m sorry that it happened this way, I am,” Derek interrupted earnestly. His palms were sweaty and he just wanted to run away, run as fast as he could for miles and miles, leaving everything behind. But he couldn’t. That was something he really could not do.

“I should have realised before and I should have let you know that this was a possibility before we…” he cut himself off and sighed. “I took you home, Stiles. I… fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t do that – I never did. I don’t trust easily; I don’t let myself get vulnerable around anyone. But you… I wanted it. I wanted you and I fucked it up. I’m so sorry and nothing I can say will change that. I wasn’t expecting a second chance; I thought if I ignored you, you’d just go back to college and move on. Live your life; the one you deserve with someone worthy of you. But I should have known. I should have known that you never do what’s expected of you. I also should have told you – well, made it more obvious that I was being serious, I guess.”

There was another long pause and Derek felt as though his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. “So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know.” Derek swallowed and tried to calm down. Good god, this is why he stayed away from people. “Do you–”

“Yes.”

Derek cracked a tiny smile as Stiles grinned at him. “You didn’t know what I was going to ask,” he pointed out. “I could have been about to ask if you wanted to run training on Friday.”

Stiles let out a bark of laughter and Derek watched happily as some of the tension fell from Stiles’ shoulders. “Well, to that, no. But to what you were  _ actually _ going to ask me, yes.”

“Really?”

“I want this baby,” Stiles said as he took a step towards Derek and took his hand gently. Derek stared down as their interlocked fingers as his breath caught in his throat. “As unexpected and frankly ridiculously terrifying as it is, I want you too. I kind of love you, dude. Even if you suck at communication. And as much of a dick you’ve been, I still want you. Want us.”

Derek hardly dared to breathe. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?

“You can’t do it again, though,” Stiles said with a lifted eyebrow and Derek started nodding immediately. “I won’t stand for it a second time, I promise you that. I also expect some grovelling.”

“Anything,” Derek agreed. He could see the sparkle in Stiles’ eyes and knew he was only teasing, but he would agree to anything. Stiles deserved it. “Anything, Stiles.”

 

 

/

 

 

Derek didn’t get much sleep that night. In fact, he wasn’t sure that he would ever sleep again. Having Stiles in his bed was everything that Derek had ever wanted, but having a pregnant Stiles in his bed? It was so much more.

Stiles’ scent seeping into his sheets, his pillows, his mattress. The sharp spice of fresh mint and Applewood, the burn of cinnamon in the air that was just so  _ Stiles  _ was incredible. Add in the sweet, oh so sugary sweet, scent of Stiles’ barely-there swell and Derek was in absolute heaven.

He wanted to bottle the smell to keep it with him forever and ever, but he would settle for burying his nose in Stiles’ neck and taking deep breaths, basking in the beautiful, beautiful aroma.

Stiles stirred and Derek pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, staying pressed up against Stiles everywhere else.

“Morning,” Stiles said, his voice deliciously husky with disuse. “This is nice.”

Derek winced at the reminder that they hadn’t actually woken up before and nuzzled against Stiles’ shoulder, smiling when Stiles reached out to rub his chest soothingly.

“I could get used to this.”

Derek nipped Stiles’ jawline lightly. “Good.” He could too, quite easily. “You should.”

Stiles stretched and gave a light chuckle as he settled back down, even closer to Derek. “We did this all wrong.” Derek let out a noise of confusion and Stiles laughed again as he rolled onto his side. “Pregnancy usually comes later on in the relationship, not right at the beginning.”

Derek rolled his eyes even as he shuffled closer and mouthed at Stiles’ neck, moving a little higher with each kiss. “I don’t care what order we did it in,” he whispered against Stiles’ lips, “I just care that we’re doing it.”

Stiles melted in Derek’s embrace when Derek wriggled a hand between their bodies and stretched it over Stiles’ stomach.

“I’m happy we made it too,” Stiles said as he closed the little gap between them and laid his hand atop of Derek’s, “Sappywolf.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hi?](http://s-horne.tumblr.com/)


End file.
